


The Sun and The Earth

by RoyaiFan101



Series: Not every fairytale has a happily ever after, but maybe this one does [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Havolina, Royai - Freeform, edwin - Freeform, mentions of abortion and child loss, oh boy I don't know how i feel about writing angsty Royai, this is the only entry that is not a one shot, this story line is a trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyaiFan101/pseuds/RoyaiFan101
Summary: A death in the family forces Riza to visit the past.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Olivier Mira Armstrong/Miles (implied), Rebecca Catalina/Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: Not every fairytale has a happily ever after, but maybe this one does [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711030
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

Scarlette is six months old when her Maternal Great-Grandfather, former Führer of Amestris _Marvin Harold Grumman_ , passes away from a heart attack in his sleep at the age of eighty-one.

Riza Hawkeye knows she’ll have to go to Central. She isn’t too happy about it. She doesn’t want to see Roy again. She doesn’t want to be bombarded with questions by her former friends and colleges over why she left without a word. Because Riza knows that Roy didn’t tell them. And why should he have? Why mention to their mutual friends that she wanted their baby and he _didn’t_.

Riza is glad that the elderly Ms. Mason is willing to watch Scarlette and Hayate so she can go to Central for her Grandfather’s funeral and his will proceedings.

She’ll only be gone a week, she tells Ms. Mason, ten days tops.

Packing a small suitcase, Riza gets into her car and heads to Central, trying to remind the butterflies in her stomach that she has nerves of steel.

* * *

The first person she comes across is Alex Louis Armstrong, who despite having been a Major for the entirety of Riza’s own military career, is now at the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

_It’s about damn time._

Alex is obviously very pleased to see Riza for the first time in nearly two years, despite the heart wrenching circumstances, and asks is she’s okay. He tells her that comforting those in mourning has been a skill passed down the Armstrong line for generations.

At this point in her life, part of Riza thinks he’s just making this shit up as he goes along. But she knows him well enough to know that, _no_ , he’s being genuinely honest.

Riza reassures Alex that she is fine, and will only be in Central long enough to attend her Grandfather’s funeral and to deal with his estate and her inheritance, but that she appreciates his concerns over her mental well being.

She is- _was_ \- Marvin Grumman’s only publicly known living relative. She knows from past experience being her Father’s only beneficiary and hearing it from Grumman’s mouth that she’s getting everything.

Riza just doesn’t know what _everything_ is.

Soon afterwards, they part ways, and Riza is relieved he didn’t interrogate her on why she left and where she had been for roughly eighteen months since she quit right under Roy Mustang’s nose.

She can only hope that everyone else is the same.

* * *

They _aren’t_.

“ _Where in the hell have you been?!_ ” Rebecca screamed at her, waddling as fast as her large and swollen stomach- _way to go Jean_ \- would allow her to, before throwing her arms around Riza and sobbing into her shoulder on the bottom steps of Central command.

It didn’t take long for Heymans and Kain, who had been talking to Rebecca when she saw Riza, to reach her too.

“We were so worried about you!” Kain gasped, a grin on his face as he and Heymans hugged her when Rebecca was finished.

“I know... I’m sorry.”

“So what did the Chief do?” Heymans asked.

“Yeah! I wanna know, right now!” Rebecca snapped, stomping her foot.

Riza sighed. Despite hating him now, she couldn’t make him out to be the bad guy. There was still so much good he could accomplish in Amestris. She would _not_ be the reason why this country never changed for the better.

“If I wanted the world to know, I would’ve stayed.” She said sternly, crossing her arms.

She let out a loud and very un-Riza like shriek when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind and lift her off the ground in a bear hug.

“You’re _alive_!” She heard Jean cry, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“ _Why_ would you think otherwise?” Riza yelped.

“Oh Jean here has been convinced that because we haven’t gotten so much as a post card or telegram from you, that you must be dead or held prisoner in some creeps basement.” Rebecca scoffed, rolling her eyes at her husband.

“Hey you’ve been worried too.” Jean pouted, setting Riza down.

“I’m sorry about your Gramps.” He told her.

“It’s okay, Jean.”

“So tell me, Reez? You got a man in your life?” Rebecca asked, hands on her hips.

Riza smirked at her best friend. “Not unless Hayate counts.”

The mention of her Shiba Inu got Kain excited. “Is he doing okay?” He asked.

“He’s doing just fine. My neighbor is watching him while I’m here.” Riza said.

_I will not mention Scarlette. Not to them. Not to anyone. She is my own little secret. She is safe in our small town, away from prying eyes._

“You know Mustang never told us why you two broke up.” Jean told her.

“We were _not_ dating.” She snarled.

“Maybe not _legally_.” Heymans smirked, crossing his arms.

Riza rolled her eyes, turned her head to look away, and saw the last person she wanted to see, standing at the top of the steps of Central command, stuff as a board as with their eyes locked on to her.

 _Führer Roy Jian Mustang_ , also known as _The Flame Alchemist_ and- much to his chagrin- _the Hero of Ishval_.

The entire group stood in awkward silence, waiting to see what would happen. But both Roy and Riza kept their poker faces up, and despite twelve yard distance between them, their friends could still feel the tension.

And unlike in the past, this tension _wasn’t_ sexual. It was just awkward.

The uncomfortableness only lasted about thirty seconds before Roy turned around and quickly walked back into the building.

“He could’ve at least said hi.” Rebecca scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Why? I have _nothing_ to say to the man.” Riza snarled, crossing her arms over her chest, a glare on her face.

“If you guys need me, I’ll be at my hotel. I will see you all later.” Riza sighed, getting back into her car, leaving without another word.

It was then that the others suspicions had been confirmed. Whatever had happened between Riza and Roy, whatever it was that had caused Riza to walk away and leave them all behind without an explanation, wasn’t going to be forgiven any time soon.

If ever.

* * *

Roy Mustang returned to his office, told his secretary that unless it was National Security, that he was not to be bothered by _anyone_ , entered the small room containing his private desk, and locked the door behind him. He sat down in his chair, and let out a sigh. He should’ve known that Riza would show up. She was his Granddaughter after all.

He just didn’t expect to see her until the day of the funeral.

Roy knew he would have to talk to her, to at the very least give his condolences at the wake. He was the current Führer and she was the only family of his recently deceased predecessor.

And the Mother of his infant daughter.

Oh he _knew_. Roy knew what she had had, knew their daughter’s name, and even had a small wallet sized picture of her hidden away in a secret pocket in his uniform jacket.

Of course Riza _didn’t_ tell him _any_ of this.

Years ago, before Grumman- or even King Bradley- had died, the old man asked Roy, upon his death, to go through his home and office and destroy anything that could ruin his life post mortem. And seeing as he respected the man and cared about his Granddaughter Riza, the morning Marvin Grumman’s body had been discovered, Roy Mustang went through his home office, destroying any files and papers that could be misinterpreted, and found a small picture in his wallet.

It was a tiny baby girl, no older then a few weeks, in a lacy white dress with a matching bonnet and socks, the hat covering up any and all hair the newborn might’ve had. On the back, written in Riza’s fanciest handwriting, was the baby’s name.

_Scarlette Elizabeth Hawkeye._

And Roy knew that she was his. He knew that this tiny baby, now roughly half a year old if he remembered the dates correctly, was his daughter. She was the tiny little life that he had begged the love of his life- his _soulmate_ \- to terminate, because a pair of _War Criminals_ don’t deserve the love of a child.

Riza had chosen Scarlette over him. And he couldn’t blame her. Not anymore.

* * *

Marvin Grumman’s lawyer was a short fat man, who was roughly two hundred pounds and came up to Riza’s shoulders.

Riza met him in his office in Central, so they could discuss the will. Seeing as she was his only listed beneficiary, the lawyer said she could come by any time her schedule allowed it. So the day before the wake was when she decided, wanting to be back on the road in her car to her small town in the South no later then the day after the funeral.

“Okay Ms. Grumman-“

“Hawkeye.” She corrected.

“I apologize, when your Grandfather spoke of you out loud, he claimed you had his surname. Luckily for legal purposes, he has you listed on paper as Hawkeye.” The man told her.

“Grandfather always did that on purpose. I prefer to keep my privacy, that was his way of respecting my wishes.” Riza explained to him.

“Ah. I see. Well it says here you’ve inherrited his checking and savings accounts, and his two properties, one here in Central and the other in East City. Now the savings account has roughly seven point five billion cens in it, with the checking having about five billion cens.” He told her.

Riza’s jaw dropped.

“E-E-Excuse me?!” She cried.

Riza knew her Mother’s side of the family had a lot of old family money, but she didn’t realize it was _that_ much money.

“Were you not aware of how much money your family had?” The lawyer asked her.

“I knew they had money, but I didn’t think it had _that_ many zeros at the end. How much debt was my Grandfather in?” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Not a lot. His house here in Central City, roughly estimated to be worth one point five billion cens, will be more then enough to cover the costs of any debts and medical bills your Grandfather had. All of that added together makes your inheritance estimated to be... fifteen billion cens.”

“I think I’m going to have a stroke.” Riza gasped, eyes wide as her hands gripped her knees.

“Would you like a drink ma’am?”

“No thank you, but I appreciate the offer.” Riza squeaked.

“I’ll have my secretary give you your Grandfather’s address and the key to his home so you can go through his belongings.”

* * *

Her Grandfathers home on the outskirts of Central is stunning. White marble floors, gold railings on the wide staircase, gold fixtures on the doors, its beautiful. Riza suspects that it’s worth more then one point five billion cens, but keeps that to herself.

She’s only here to take whatever items she wants to keep. Family photos, personal documents, family heirlooms, things like that. Riza feels like a money hungry heiress, and she hates herself for it. But her and her Grandfather were never very close, not like Roy and Madam Christmas, though much closer then her and the late Berthold Hawkeye.

She just wants to leave Central as soon as she can, and go back home to her sweet little Scarlette.

Riza brings in one of the flattened cardboard boxes she had stuffed in the trunk of her car, and begins to pack up the albums containing childhood photos of her Mother, her Grandparents and Great-Grandparents wedding albums, and a few other albums here and there. She goes to his record collection, thumbing through them as she takes in his six hundred record collection.

 _Roy would love this one._ She thinks, holding a record in her hand, and the thought breaks her heart. _Stop it!_ Her subconscious snaps. _He ordered you to get an abortion. He’s emotionally dead to you!_

She only takes about two hundred of his records to add to her own much smaller collection back at home, deciding the rest can be sold or given away to whoever wants them.

Once the boxes with the photo albums and records are in her car, she grabs more boxes. Riza fills them with old family jewels, random knick knacks, heirloom silverware and fine china, and anything else that her Grandfather had that she wants or doesn’t have.

Including his own collection of guns, vastly outdoing her own collection in both quantity and quality.

She's finished loading up her car when she hears a voice behind her, causing her back to tense up.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your Grandfather, Miss Hawkeye.” Roy says solemnly.

 _Oh so I’m Miss Hawkeye again? You haven’t called me that since I was twelve years old._ She mentally snarled.

“I appreciate your condolences Mr. Mustang.” She bites back, hoping it hurts.

“If there’s _anything_ I can do...” Roy sighes, trailing off.

“Actually, yes. There _is_ something you can do.” Riza replies, turning to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. Roy swallows sharply, and wonders if her request is for him to _drop dead_ right in front of her.

“What is it?” He asked softly.

“I want you to speak at my Grandfather’s funeral in my place.” She says simply.

 _Oh_.

“As his Granddaughter, shouldn’t you speak?” Roy asked, confused.

“You two were closer then me and him. He really did like you.” Riza reminded him.

“Probably why he kept telling me to _marry you_.” Roy said, instantly regretting it.

Riza let out a snort, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

“It’s _your_ fault that will _never_ happen. I will see you at the church tomorrow morning, Führer Mustang.” She reminded him, turning to get into her car, and driving away.

* * *

Riza visits the grave of Maes Hughes and is surprised she is the only one there. She walks up to the headstone, a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

_Pink roses for friendship, hydrangeas for preservation, peonies for healing, and white carnations for remembrance._

Maes Hughes had been like a brother to Roy, and by extension, herself.

“I wish you were still here, Maes.” Riza sighed, putting the flowers down.

“Maybe if you hadn’t died, you could have talked some sense into the idiot.” She frowned.

_And my baby girl would have a Father that loved and wanted her, like Elicia had with you._

Riza tries not to cry at what could have been and never will be, tells her fallen friend a soft goodbye, and leaves the cemetary in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the currency of the cens on the Japanese YEN, then converted it to the American dollar.   
> So ¥7,500,000,000 roughly converts to $69,644,350. ¥5,000,000,000 converts to $46,429,566. ¥1,500,000,000=$13,928,870.  
> Making Riza's inheritance from Grumman, pre any medical bills being taken, estimated at 14,000,000,000 cens/yen OR $130,003,000 (rounded up)  
> Home girl is NEVER going to have to worry about child support, though it's not like she wants it.


	2. Chapter 2

The late Marvin Grumman’s funeral was a quiet affair, despite the man having been Amestris’ former Führer. Despite his personality, he didn’t want a large funeral. His only request was that Riza be there, which she was.

And it was very awkward.

“Your hair looks nice at that length.” Vato told her when he hugged her at the afterparty at Roy’s home. Riza smiled at him, her fingers tugging at the ends of her mid neck lengthed hair.

“Thank you Vato.”

“Have you been okay these past few months?” He asked softly, voice full of concern.

While most of their friends wanted to know where she went and why she left, Vato Falman just wanted to know that Riza was okay.

“Yes, of course. I haven’t been this happy in a very long time.” She smiled.

Because it was true. Scarlette had filled up a void in her life Riza hadn’t realized even existed, much less needed filled. She no longer stressed out over her job, waking up each morning wondering _Is today the day? Is today the day Roy becomes Führer? Is it the day I sacrifice myself for him? Or is it the day I fail and someone takes him out?_ Now her only concerns were taking care of her small homestead, and raising her daughter to be a happy and carefree little girl.

“I’m glad.”

The next person to greet her was Olivier Armstrong, who was now a full fledged General, and the highest ranking member of the military after Roy.

“And here stands the infamous Hawk’s Eye. Some of my men at Briggs started rumors that Mustang ran you off with all his flirting.” Olivier stated, a glass of wine in her hand.

“His flirting with me or other women?” Riza smirked.

“Like it matters. You and every other woman in this country can do _much_ better.” Olivier reminded her.

“How have you been Olivier? You and Lieutenant Colonel Miles still...” Riza trailed off, a teasing tone in her voice.

“First of all he’s a _Colonel_ now, and unlike how Mustang was with _you_ , Miles has _never_ bent _me_ over his desk.”

_He never bent me over his desk! At least not his desk at work..._

“What is it going to take for people to believe me when I say we never did anything like that?” Riza groaned, knowing fully well that they were a couple the _entire time_ she worked under him. No pun intended.

“Roy Mustang marrying a _man_.” Olivier told her, downing the rest of her wine.

“I would appreciate you _not_ starting _those_ kind of rumors about me, General Armstrong.”

The two women saw the Führer standing beside them, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Good afternoon, Führer Mustang.” Riza said. If Olivier took notice of the coldness in Riza’s voice, she didn’t comment. Instead she decided to politely excuse herself, leaving the ex superior and subordinate/lovers to stand in uncomfortable silence.

“So how is Madam Christmas doing?” Riza asked him.

“She’s doing wonderfully. Her new bar is doing fantastic. She would love to see you again.” Roy informed her.

_I will not tell her that I am sorry for what I said to her. I will not beg for her to forgive. I will not ask if I can meet my child. I don’t deserve her, I don’t deserve Scarlette. I made a mistake. I made my bed, and I will lay in it for the rest of my life. Only thing I can do is pray that if Riza ever gets married, she’ll marry a man that would love our daughter like she was his own._

“I might swing by. Have you heard from either Edward or Alphonse?” Riza questioned.

“Alphonse no, but yesterday Edward called. Apparently Winry is pregnant with their second.” Roy informed her.

Riza blanched at the statement. “Already?” She gaped. By her calculations, their baby was at least a month younger than Scarlette!

“Yep. They’re hoping for a girl this time around.”

Riza felt her heart wrench. She was happy for Winry, her unofficial little sister. But she couldn’t help but feel jealous over the blonde girl over ten years her junior.

Winry and Edward didn’t lose their son.

“So what’s their son’s name?” Riza asked.

“ _Duncan Urey Rockbell-Elric_.”

“What a mouthful, I can only imagine what his little brother or sister is named.”

“Oh son of a bit- Jean! Come on! We gotta go to the hospital!” Rebecca yelled, making the guests jump.

“The baby is coming? Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” Jean hollered, running around the room like a chicken with his head cut off, before grabbing his jacket and car keys and running out the door.

Without Rebecca.

“I married and procreated with a complete and utter idiot!” She groaned, looking up and shaking her head at the ceiling, before stomping off after her husband, hopeful to catch him before he drove himself to the hospital without her.

Riza turned back to look at Roy and saw that he was trying, and failing, not to laugh at the situation. When they heard Rebecca yell “ _The dumbass left without me_!” from outside, they both started laughing hysterically.

“ _Riiiiiza_! I need you to- will you and Mustang _quit laughing_ at my distress!- drive me to the hospital.” Rebecca wailed, stepping back inside.

“I came here in a taxi. My car is full.” Riza told her.

“We’ll carpool. I wanna hear what Catalina yells out of her mouth at Havoc. That shit sounds _entertaining_.” Roy laughed.

“I haven’t been a Catalina since 1917!” Rebecca snarled.

“I’m still going to refer to you as Catalina.” Roy snapped back, walking towards her and walking out the front door. He quickly stuck his head back into his home to add a stern warning to the guests.

“If _anything_ of mine goes missing, you will all be court martial-ed.”

“Come on Riza! Before I have my baby in Mustangs car!”

“You better damn well _not_!”

Riza rolled her eyes, following after them. _So much for going home tomorrow._

* * *

When Rebecca Catalina was in pain, she was loud and vocal.

“ _Jean Archaimbaud Havoc! If you ever touch me again I’ll rip your intestines out your asshole and hang you from a tree with them!_ ”

“ _Archaimbaud_?” Riza gagged.

“I thought _my_ middle name was bad.” Roy snorted.

“How do you even spell that?” She cringed, shaking her head.

Her and Roy were sitting in the empty hallway together, listening to Rebecca cry in agony. The rest of their friends had either gone to get Jean and Becca’s parents or were still at Roy’s house, ensuring no one stole from him.

Or, as Riza silently suspected, avoiding being alone with her and Roy, none of them wanted to be forced to deal with the tension.

“So what’s being Führer like?” Riza asked him.

“Boring. It is so damn _boring_ Riza! Why did I ever think this job would be exciting? I had more fun as a Lieutenant Colonel then I do as the leader of this country!” He groaned, earning a laugh from Riza.

“What a shame.” She snorted.

“So how have you been?” Roy asked quietly.

“Great. I’m happy- really happy.“ Riza told him.

_Happy to know I don’t need you in my life to function._

“That’s great. That really is great.” Roy told her.

“ _You cock sucking jackass! I hate you!_ ”

“ _Ow! Ow! Ow! Becca, honey, I can’t feel my hand! Ahh don’t grab me there!_ ”

Roy and Riza both cringed.

* * *

_Zoey Delilah Havoc_ was born on February 1, 1921, sporting a full head of curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Rebecca and Jean couldn’t help the tears of joy and happiness that escaped as they cooed over their beloved baby daughter.

Riza tried not to let her jealousy show. All she wanted for Scarlette was for her to experience what she never did- her Father’s love. But Roy didn’t want her. He _wasn’t_ happy when she told him that she was pregnant, that they were going to have a baby.

It was then and only then that Riza realized that beyond their career ambitions, that was as far as their goals in life went.

She wanted to be a _Mother_. She wanted to experience what Maes did with Elicia. But Roy didn’t. And it _hurt_ so damn badly. That the man she _thought_ she was going to _marry_ once he became Führer, could ask her to end her pregnancy, to end _another innocent_ life, so easily. So Riza made a decision that would make them both happy.

She _left_.

She left, took her unborn baby with her, and went away. She got to be a Mother, and Roy didn’t have to be burdened with a dependent he didn’t want.

It was a win-win for the two of them.

“How are you feeling, Becca?” Riza asked softly.

“Sore. But I’m so happy, Riza. I thought I was happy when me and Jean got engaged and then married. But this tops it.” Rebecca gushed, stroking a sleeping Zoey’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.” Riza cooed.

It was just the two of them and Zoey in the room. Roy had left hours ago to make sure his house was still in one piece, and Jean had taken the hour drive back to his and Rebecca’s home outside Central’s city limits to get their things.

“Riza? What happened with you and Mustang? You used to be so close, and then one day- poof! You quit and left us all behind. You didn’t even tell anyone goodbye.” Rebecca pouted softly.

“What caused y’all to have that bad of a break up?”

“Rebecca...!” Riza groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No! Look, you guys can spend the rest of your lives pretending, but we _all knew_. It was so obvious that you guys loved each other. Now what happened?” Rebecca snarled.

“We... found things out about each other, and it was something we really should’ve had a discussion about together a long time ago.” Riza told her, being extremely vague about her answer.

“What? About kids. Lemme guess, he got upset because you don’t want kids and he does?” Rebecca asked, remembering Riza’s lack of outright enthusiasm over getting married or having her own little bad-ass babies running around Amestris.

Riza let out a sigh, trying her hardest not to cry. “Quite the _opposite_ , actually.”

* * *

Riza was sitting in a bar stool at _Solstice_ , Madam Christmas’ newest establishment, casually sipping on her second glass of whiskey, when Roy walked through the front door.

“Uh oh.” She heard Christmas mumbled under her breath.

“Surprised you’re still in Central.” Roy mumbled, sitting on the stool next to her.

“I leave the day after tomorrow.” Riza told him.

“Will we ever see you again?” Madam Christmas asked her, handing Roy his usual order of Scotch.

“Most likely not.” Riza shrugged, ignoring the frown the Madam gave her and the sideways glare she gave to Roy. She pretended not to hear Christmas whisper angrily into Roy’s ear to “ _Fix whatever it is you did._ ” before moving on to another customer.

Roy sighed, downing his drink in one go and slamming it back down on to the bar.

“How are- how is-“ He cut himself off with a groan. He exhaled sharply and shook his head, forcing himself to speak to her.

“How’s the baby?” He asked softly.

“Why do you care? You didn’t want her.” Riza scoffed, finishing her drink and tapping the bar, signally to Madam Christmas that she wanted a refill.

“There’s a difference betwe-“ Roy cut himself off again as his Aunt refilled both of their drinks, and started back up when she left again. “Between not _wanting_ something and not _deserving_ something. It’s a huge difference and you know that, Riza!”

“But you and I do _not_ deserve to be parents! And we especially don’t deserve to be parents to the same child. We lost that right in Ishval!” He snarled, chugging his drink again.

“And we have done _everything_ we could in the last decade to try to make up for that. Just a few years ago we _both_ almost died trying to save this miserable country! So excuse me for wanting to come home to something pure and innocent that _isn’t_ my damn dog!” Riza growled, downing her own drink.

They both tapped their glasses loudly at the same time, and Christmas rolled her eyes as she refilled them. She didn’t like how fast they were drinking, especially that past experiences told her that neither of them could do a very good job at holding their liquor. But hey, if it was getting them to talk, she would keep pouring their drinks, and would continue to remind her girls to ignore _Roy-Boy_ while he was talking to _Elizabeth_.

When they both chugged their drinks, his third and her fourth, before even speaking, she decided it would be best to stay nearby. Not like they noticed she was there anyway.

“It isn’t something we deserve!” Roy groaned, pulling on his hair, as his aunt gave them both yet another refill.

“Well excuse me for not wanting to be a Mother to _another_ dead baby!” She cried, fighting back tears.

Her words made her sober enough to realize what she had said. But frankly, _she didn’t care anymore._

Riza saw Roy freeze up, and for a split second she thought he or his Aunt were going to faint.

“What?” He asked softly.

_Another dead ba- what does she mean by that?_

“Riza, honey? What are you talking about?” Madam Christmas asked softly, resting a hand on the younger blondes shoulder. From Roy’s reaction, she could tell that he had no prior knowledge to what she was talking about. Riza roughly shook her shoulder, forcing the older woman’s hand off of her as she fought back tears.

“Next time tell your stupid nephew _not_ to cum inside of a girl that’s _barely_ fifteen and living alone in a home with an abusive Father!” She snapped, grabbing her full glass of whiskey and tossing it into Roy’s face. She grabbed her wallet out of her purse, slammed several bills into the bar, and stormed out of the bar without another word.

“ _I got her- she got- she had a- she never told- why didn’t she ever tell-_ “ Roy stammered, whiskey dripping down his face.

“Go after her boy. _Now_!” Christmas snarled, pointing her manicured finger towards the door.

“ _Riza!_ ” Roy yelped, jumping down and running out after her. “ _Riza!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jian: (Chinese) Strong  
> Archaimbaud: (French) Bold


	3. Chapter 3

Riza walked down the street, her hood pulled up as the tears fell down her face. She finally told Roy. He finally knew that she’d gotten pregnant when she lost her virginity almost seventeen years ago, and that she had lost their baby.

Of course he probably thought that it was simply an early miscarriage. He didn’t know that she had given birth four months early, _alone_ , and that the stress of trying to hide her pregnancy was most likely the cause of the premature delivery. He didn’t know that their baby had been a _boy_ or that he had lived for barely ten minutes, or that he had died in her arms. And he most certainly didn’t know that she had given him a _name_ or that he was buried in a shoe box in the woods they used to play in growing up.

Roy Mustang didn’t know anything about anything!

“Riza!” She heard Roy yelling after her.

“Leave me alone!” She turned to scream at him.

“No! Not until you talk to me!” Roy groaned, finally catching up to her.

“About what? There’s nothing to talk about. I have _nothing_ to say to you!” She sobbed, crossing her arms under her chest.

All Riza wanted to do was go back to her hotel room, so she could sleep off the booze and get back home to Scarlette, and pretend she never saw Roy Mustang while she was here in Central.

“Bullshit!” He snapped, glad that it was late and that the part of Central his aunts bar was in was empty. There were no prying ears or wondering eyes to listen in on their argument.

Riza turned a corner, and let out a groan when she realized it wasn’t a street but an alley. She quickly turned around to walk back on to the road, but smacked face first into Roy’s chest, who wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from escaping.

“Let me go!” She spat, smacking him as hard as she could.

“No.” He growled. “Not until you talk to me. What happened?” He sighed, resting his chin on top of her head.

“No. I don’t want to talk to you! I want to go home to _my_ baby and pretend her father _isn’t_ a cold heartless jackass!” Riza cried, struggling to break free.

“Tell me what happened and I’ll take you back to your hotel room. I promise.” Roy cooed. “But it’s been almost two decades, Riza. You can’t keep something like this to yourself. It isn’t healthy.” He reminded her.

When she didn’t say anything, he tried a different approach.

“How about this? I ask a question and you answer. Does that work?” He asked. She nodded, her head against his chest, and he sighed with relief.

“Why did you never tell before, back when I was in the Academy?”

“I had no way to tell you. My Father lit the card you gave me on fire, and I never received any letters from you.” She muttered.

It wasn’t until _after_ Berthold had died and her and Roy were going through his study that they found the dozens of letters he had sent to her in the two years he had been gone, all of their dates ranging from a week after he had left to a month before her Father died. They had all been shoved into a locked drawer in his desk, all unopened. Each and every single one of them ending with Roy either saying that he _missed_ her or that he _loved_ her. 

“Did your father cause you to lose the baby?” He asked.

“Not intentionally. He didn’t know, if he did he didn’t say anything. I think it was the stress of trying to hide it from him that caused it.” Riza sighed.

“Was your Dad there when it happened?” Roy asked her.

“No. He was on a two week trip to West City when it... when I... He wasn’t there.”

“How far along were you when you miscarried?”

Roy honestly thought she had only been a few weeks along, and was confused as to why she wasn’t able to talk about this with him in the past.

“I didn’t miscarry Roy. I gave _birth_.” She whimpered, feeling him tense up.

“What?”

“I g-gave birth and it was _t-too early_. The b-baby _w-wasn’t_ ready and I was a-alone in that house.” She stammered, tears soaking the front of his shirt.

“And h-he was _a-alive_ when he was born. He was so tiny and he was b-breathing, and he d-died while I was holding h-him.” Riza gasped.

Roy tried his absolute hardest not to tense up when she said the word _he_. _No wonder she was so heartbroken, why she’d been so upset when I didn’t want our daughter. She had already lost our son_.

“What did you do with his b-“ Roy stopped himself, unable to finish his question.

“I buried him in a shoe box out in the woods. I know a shoe box isn’t a proper coffin, but I couldn’t just toss him in the dirt.” Riza mumbled.

“I’m sorry I lost _our_ son.”

“Don’t be. These things happen. They happen all the time. I’m the one that should be sorry. I shouldn’t have given you my card in front of your Dad. I should’ve been more careful that night.” Roy sighed, resting his cheek against her head.

“It’s probably a good thing I lost him when I did.”

“Why do you say that?”

“When my Father came home a week later, he carved his work into my skin. Imagine what he would’ve done if he saw that his fifteen year old daughter was five months pregnant with his former apprentice’s bastard son?” Riza mumbled. She _hated_ calling Jackson a bastard more then anything, but at the end of the day, that’s what he had been, and it’s what Berthold would’ve called him.

_Damn that man!_

“We should probably give him a name...” he mumbled against her hair.

“I named him _Jackson David_.” Riza told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s a _wonderful_ name. C’mon, let’s get you back to your hotel.” Roy told her, a small smile on his face, as he let her go and took her hand.

* * *

They walked in silence as Roy kept his promise, taking her back to her hotel room. They didn’t speak a word to each other as the walked through the front doors, on to the elevator, and rode it up to Riza’s floor.

It was only when they got to her room that either of them spoke.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted when you told me that you were pregnant.” He mumbled, eyes on the hallway’s carpeted floor.

Riza knew it was the booze working it’s way through her body, and that she would regret what her mind was screaming at her to do in the morning, but she couldn’t help it.

She kissed him.

He was tense for only a second before kissing her back, the actions creating a domino effect. They broke apart long enough for Riza to unlock her door, before Roy practically shoved her inside, pinning her to the wall. They both removed their jackets and outerwear, before he gripped her by her thighs and hoisted her up around his waist, pushing her skirt up as he did, his teeth sinking into her neck, using one of his hands to push down the fabric of her turtleneck to expose her skin. He no longer had to worry about not leaving any marks on her skin.

They both knew what this was. This wasn’t _I miss you and I still love you_ sex. This was _I’m drunk and hurting and need comfort_ sex. And they were both okay with that.

While his mouth worked a series of bruises along her skin, Riza’s hands went to his shirt, undoing each and every single button, moaning as his hand snuck its way up her skirt and down her thick stockings and underwear, finding her clit and stroking it. Roy pulled his hand out of her panties long enough to remove his shirt, and pulled his mouth away from the skin of her neck long enough to remove her own sweater.

He didn’t even bother to remove her bra before he carried her over to the double bed, tossing her on to it. Riza let out a moan, followed by a sharp gasp when he grasped her by her hips and flipped her over on to her stomach, dragging her back so her legs and ass hung off the bed.

Roy gripped the waistband of her skirt, and pulled it, her stockings, and her underwear down, leaving her completely bare to him. He spread her legs apart, keeping them opened by standing between her, as his hand moved to stroke her folds, hissing when he discovered she was _soaked_.

A drunk Riza Hawkeye, while extremely rare, _never_ needed much foreplay.

“Roy.” She whined, moving her hips when she felt his arousal pressing through his slacks.

“Patience.” He teased, dipping two of his fingers deep inside of her, making her groan. He curled his fingers and pumped them in and out of her womanhood, smirking with every moan and gasp that escaped her lips.

It didn’t take long for him to decide she was ready for him. Stepping back away from her, Roy removed his shoes and the remainder of his clothes, stroking his cock. With no warning, he slammed fully into her, making Riza cry out in pleasure.

He had to keep his hips still so he wouldn’t immediately cum and _ruin_ it for both of them.

With his nails digging into the skin of her hips and his eyes locked on to her ass cheeks so he wouldn’t see her her tattoo or the burns she begged him to give to her, and started pounding into her, grunting and groaning as he did.

Despite his persona as a womanizer, Roy hadn’t been with a woman in a long time, not since he had caused Riza to leave him. _He missed her_. He had missed her so damn much. It killed him every that he didn’t see her every day anymore, that she was no longer the most important person in his life, and that he wasn’t the most important person in her life.

And it was _all his fault_.

The sounds of her moans and the feeling of her walls clenching his dick had him snapping out of his thoughts of pity, and he pressed their hips together as his cum spilled inside of her. Panting, he pulled his spent cock out of her, groaning at the sight of his seed leaked out of her stretched opening, and collapsed on to the bed next to her.

The next thing Roy knew, Riza was straddling his stomach, reaching her hand behind her to grasp his shaft, pumping her hand up and down in hopes of getting him hard again. It took awhile, but soon his dick was erect again, and Riza raised herself up and sunk down on to him, the both of them moaning as she rotated her hips.

* * *

Riza woke up with a pounding headache and an all too familiar ache between her thighs.

When she realized she was completely naked save for her bra, she mentally panicked. _Oh fuck what... err who, did I do last night?_ She groaned internally. Slowly she sat up, and winced at the figure who’s back was to her. As soon as she saw the familiar burn scar on his side, she surpressed the urge to jump out her hotel room’s window.

Carefully and as quietly as humanly possible, she got out of bed, got dressed, and made sure everything of hers was in her suitcase. Once that was done, she looked at the clock, six am, set the alarm for seven am, and wrote Roy a note on a piece of paper.

Once that was done, she grabbed her bag, left the room, got in her car, and drove back home to Scarlette and Hayate, deciding she would deal with her hangover once she was long gone from Central City.

* * *

Roy woke up with a hiss at the sound of an alarm clock he didn’t recognize.

“Where the hell am I?” He groaned, rolling over to slam his fist down onto the noisy device.

 _Why am I naked?_ He sat up frantically, not knowing where he was. He saw the paper on the opposite pillow and picked it up to read it.

_Check out is 10 am. I suggest you be gone before then. -Riza_

“God dammit I’m an _idiot_.” He sighed. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. All he wanted was to walk her back to her hotel room after she told- finally told him- about the fact that she had lost their son when she wasn’t even sixteen, that she had named him _Jackson David_ , and to apologize to her over his response to when she told him she was pregnant with their daughter.

Sex _hadn’t_ been a part of his plan.

When he saw that all of her stuff was gone from the hotel room, and that her car was no longer parked on the street, he tried not to hide his disappointment over the fact that she didn’t say goodbye to him. Again.

Not like he deserved a goodbye from her anyway.

* * *

“So what all did you and Elizabeth talk about the other night?” Christmas asked Roy, when he went to visit her a week later.

“Stuff. And things.” He sighed.

“Tell me boy. Before I toss you out on to the street.” Christmas snarled.

“I’m the Führer!” He whined.

“And _I_ raised _you_! Now start talking!”

So Roy did. He told her about how he and Riza had sex the night before he left for the Academy, how like an idiot he didn’t use any preventatives- not like the sex had been a planned event anyway- and that she had gotten pregnant. He told her that she had lost the baby, but it hadn’t been a miscarriage. She had given birth, all alone in her house, and that their baby boy had died in her arms. And then he told his Aunt why Riza left him. Roy told her that Riza had informed him that she was pregnant. And his reaction was to tell her to end the pregnancy.

Madam Christmas’ response to the last part? She punched her nephew in the jaw, knocking him on to his ass.

_Yeah, I deserved that._

* * *

Riza _shouldn’t_ have been surprised when she threw up outside of her chicken coop a month after she returned home from Central.

 _No. Not again_. She thought with a groan.

 _No, everything is going to be fine. The money Grandfather left me is in my accounts, his properties have been sold. I have enough money to where this won’t be an issue. Me, Scarlette, and this baby will be fine_. She told herself.

She and her children didn’t need Roy’s financial support. Not now, and if she had any say in the matter, not ever.

With a reassured confidence, she went back inside, fed Hayate his breakfast, made a bottle of formula for Scarlette, and made herself some waffles for breakfast.


	4. Chapter 4

As Scarlette grew, so did Riza’s stomach.

Sometimes it was hard for her, to imagine having two little ones that were barely fifteen months apart. She never imagined having more than one child children, much less two under a year and a half apart in age.

But here she was, feeling her unborn child move and kick as their big sister struggled to figure out this _walking_ business.

Whatever it was, an eleven month old Scarlette figured, it made her mama really excited. Then again, almost anything she did made her mama excited and happy.

* * *

On Scarlette’s first birthday, a newspaper landed on their front porch with a front page article that surprised Riza.

_Ishvallans reject Führer Mustang’s desire to put those who were involved in the extermination on trial for war crimes. Read more on Page 3._

“Huh?” Riza mumbled softly, sitting in the chair and opening the paper to page 3.

_While the Ishvallans are greatly appreciative for what Führer Mustang has done in the past for them since the events of The Promised Day, the elders of Ishval have declined his request to punish those who slaughtered them._   
_“Enough blood has been spilled. We do not wish to be the reason why more gets shed.” One of the Ishvallans said for one of our interviewers._   
_No word has been said on how Führer Mustang has to feel about this. More updates to come in the future._

With a sigh, Riza folded up the paper and tossed it in the trash. Roy had spent over the last decade of his career working to get to the top, so he could make the country a better place for future generations and to be _executed_ for his actions and Ishval.

And now they wouldn’t kill him?

“Ma! Ma!” Scarlette babbled from her pen. Riza turned to her baby girl and smiled.

“Hi Princess.” Riza cooed, picking her up and resting her baby on her swollen stomach.

“Mama loves you. Mama loves you so much.” She hummed, kissing her forehead.

* * *

Riza went in to labor in the middle of the night on _October 2nd, 1921_ , three weeks before her due date.

Hissing and whimpering in pain, she repeated the actions she took when she was in labor with Scarlette, moving slower then before due to her larger stomach and her attempts to be quiet so she wouldn’t wake Scarlette up. The last thing she wanted to deal with while having contractions was a whiny toddler.

Steadying her breath, she relaxed in the water, feeling her unborn child move around inside of her between contractions. Her hands rubbed her stomach, wondering if this baby was going to be a girl or a boy, and if they’d look like her or Roy.

“You don’t realize how loved you and your sister are. Your Daddy’s is a good person, deep down. He’s proven he’s a good person time and time again. He just... We just both wanted different things in life. I wanted this. I wanted you and your sister. He’s convinced himself that he _lost_ the right to experience something so perfect and innocent a long time ago. He doesn’t think either of us deserve you guys. But I don’t think that’s true. Because even two _Homunculi_ got to experience what it was like to have a happy family, even if it was all a _ruse_ in the end.” She cooed, letting out the occasional whimper of pain as her abdomen tightened up with each contraction.

“Your Daddy doesn’t even know about you. Nope. You’re my own little secret.” Riza added with a sigh, sitting up when she felt the familiar pressure of a head crowning between her legs, letting out a cry of pain as the worst contraction yet hit her.

* * *

Riza probably should’ve realized it was twins based on her larger size. She found herself in a state of shock as she stared at the two new baby girls, each nursing on one of her breasts as she laid back in her bed.  
 _Evelyn Christine Hawkeye_ and her currently unnamed younger twin sister had born looking absolutely nothing like their Mother and exactly like they Father. They looked more like Roy then Scarlette did!

“Not surprised you two have black hair.” Riza cooed.

It had been a bit of a struggle, carrying both of her newborn daughters back to her bed from the bathroom, but Riza had managed to do it without tripping or dropping either of them. She knew that she should have hired someone to help her while she recovered, but she didn’t want it.

 _Elizabeth “Riza” Danielle Hawkeye_ was the girl who splinted her own ankle when she was nine after she sprained it, because her Father was too busy with his work to care about her cries for help. She was the girl, who at fifteen and running off adrenaline and borderline hysteria, gave birth to and buried her prematurely born, short-lived baby boy all by herself, all within a five hour time span. She would be fine, resting while taking care of two newborns and a toddler all by herself as well.

Besides, Ms. Mason came by once a day to give her milk from her cow. If anything was wrong, Riza would tell her.

Placing Evelyn and her sister in their currently shared cradle- _Going to have to get a second one soon_ \- Riza left to get Scarlette from her own crib in the room next to hers. Carefully waking her oldest daughter up, Riza scooped her up into her arms, humming softly as she walked them back to where Evelyn and her sister was.

“Scarlette, meet your baby sisters.” Riza cooed, sitting on the bed, Scarlette resting in her lap.

“Sissy!” Scarlette babbled, smiling up at her Mother.

“Yes. That’s right. That’s sissy.” She smiled.

Riza moved Scarlette to lay on the other side of the bed, and scooted back against the pillows. She brought her toddler to snuggle up to her chest.

It didn’t take long for Scarlette to fall back to sleep, using her Mother’s still covered breast as a pillow.

* * *

It took a week for Riza to name her third daughter. _Valerie Paige Hawkeye_.

Perhaps it was just sheer dumb luck, or the fact that she knew what to do this time around, but she found it easier dealing with newborn twins and a toddler that hadn’t even had her second birthday yet- and _wouldn’t_ for nearly another year- then she did just dealing with Scarlette.

And despite her loud personality, she was a very good older sister. She wasn’t rough with them, and listened to her mama when she told her to be gentle.

“Babies.” Scarlette babbled, watching her sisters sleep.

“Yep. Your sisters are sleeping. So _shh_.” Riza cooed, pressing her fingers to her lips.

“ _Sssssshhhhh_!!” Scarlette repeated, albeit louder then Riza had done.

“Good job Scar!” Riza beamed. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.” She said, hoisting her up on her hip and carrying her from the living room to her high chair in the kitchen.

* * *

When Evelyn and Valerie were six weeks old, it was announced that Amestris was in the beginning stages of becoming a Democracy.

 _Roy must be so proud_. Riza hummed, tossing the paper into the fire. She glanced down and saw Evelyn and Valerie sleeping in the sling, snuggled up together against her chest. She glanced behind her and saw Scarlette, also asleep, in her own little carrier strapped to her back.

Letting our a content sigh, Riza grabbed the broom and started cleaning her house, using the fact that all of her daughters were sleeping to her advantage.

* * *

Roy decided that as soon as Amestris was a Democracy, he would start the process of allowing the people to elect his replacement.

While he loved his life and was happy seeing the positive changes to his country, it wasn’t enough. His life had become meaningless outside of work.

He wanted Riza. And he wanted Scarlette.

He _knew_ he didn’t deserve Scarlette, and if Riza wanted nothing to do with him and for him to stay away, he would respect her wishes. But it took seeing her and losing her again to make him realize that he _wanted_ her in his life again. If that meant having as many babies with the women he loved, all of which he felt he had no right to produce, than so be it.

_He would be a Father._

Riza, who _wanted_ children _despite_ her role in Ishval, had spent the _entirety_ of her twenties- _the majority of her childbearing years_ \- watching his back and helping push him to the top. She helped him reach his dreams, the least he could do was be involved in hers.

The problem? He had _no_ idea where she or their daughter was.

Riza Hawkeye has kept an extremely low profile since quitting her job as a Captain in the Amestrian Military. The former Führer, her own maternal grandfather, had no idea where she had gone off to- or at the very least have no indication he knew where she was. She had purchased no property of any kind in her name, or in the names of any of her aliases, since she vanished. _None_ of her friends or former colleges had received a letter, post card, or a telegram from her.

Madam Christmas couldn’t even find any information on her! And she was the best of the best when it came to intelligence gathering.

 _Hmmm. I wonder if she ever sold her Father’s property?_ Roy mused, scratching his chin. He knew there was _no way_ she moved back there. But maybe she rented the place out and used it as income, or sold it and the new owners had a way of contacting her.

He decided that when he was no longer Führer Mustang, And was instead just regular old Roy Mustang, the old Hawkeye Manor would be the first place he would look for the woman he wanted to grow old with and the daughter they shared.

Roy could only hope that Riza _hadn’t_ moved on and married someone else by the time that had happened.

* * *

“Happy Birthday girls!” Riza cooed, picking up Evelyn and Valerie from their cribs and giving each of them a kiss on both cheeks.

“Happy Birthday Evie! Happy Birthday Val!” Scarlette squealed, excited that her sisters were now a year old.

“Mommy? Mommy? Are we gonna have cake for breakfast?” The two year old asked, tugging on the hem of her Mother’s dress.

“No ma’am. We are going to have cake _after_ dinner, though.” Riza informed her sternly.

“ _Awww_.” Scarlette pouted, throwing her head back and letting out a loud whine. “I want cake for breakfast.” She huffed, crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip.

“ _Scarlette Elizabeth_...” Riza started, her voice in a scolding tone.

“But I can wait!” Scarlette said quickly, her demeanor changing instantly.

“So what _is_ for breakfast?” She asked her Mother, following her as they walked down the steps.

“French toast.”

“That’s almost as good as cake!” Scarlette cried, racing past her Mother and sisters down the steps and into the kitchen.

 _She’s too much like her Father_... Riza sighed, shaking her head.

It amazed Riza how much a wallflower like herself could carry and raise a wild child like Scarlette. The little girl was bouncing off the walls before she could even crawl! Berthold Hawkeye would’ve never allowed her to be this rambunctious as a child.

It made Riza’s heart swell with pride knowing that, despite all of them growing up in the same house, her daughters were going to have much different childhood then she had. While they would grow up without a Father, like she had done without a Mother, they wouldn’t grow in fear of her.

Scarlette, Evelyn, or Valerie would never have to worry about being smacked into a wall because they were playing too loudly.

* * *

“Mommy? _Where_ are we going?” Scarlette sighed, as they walked through woods outside of their home.

The two year old was trudging behind her Mother, holding her hand, while her identical twin baby sisters got to be carried on her back and against her chest in their slings.

“There’s someone you and your sisters need to meet.” Riza informed her softly.

Scarlette let out an annoyed huff as her Mother took her further into the woods. They finally got to a small clearing, and Riza sat Scarlette down on a fallen tree, sitting next to her. Scarlette sat silently as she watched her Mother stare at a still standing tree with a large **t** carved into it. She recognized that **t** whenever they went to visit _Grandmother Marisol_ at the cemetery.

“Mommy? _Is this Daddy_?” Scarlette asked softly.

Riza tensed up. Scarlette rarely brought up her Father- the little girl had heard enough fairytales to know that _everyone_ had had a mommy and a daddy at one point in there life- but when she did it was still uncomfortable.

“No Princess. This is your big brother.” Riza told her.

“I had a brother?” Scarlette gasped, her eyes wide.

“Mhm.” Riza nodded. “His name was _Jackson_.”

“What happened to him?” Scarlette mumbled.

“He came out of mommy’s tummy when he was really really little.” Riza said softly, not knowing what was the best way to explain the situation to a two year old.

“Little like Evie and Val were when they came out of your tummy?”

“ _Littler_.” Riza told her.

“Today is his birthday.” She added softly, a smile on her face despite her inner desire to start crying.

“How old would he be?” Scarlette asked.

“A lot older then you and your sisters.” Riza answered.

_Nineteen. Jackson would be nineteen today. Hard to believe that if things went differently, I would have a nineteen year old son instead of spending over a decade in the Army. He'd be old enough to enlist himself if he wanted to..._

Scarlette frowned at her Mother, seemingly sensing the sadness radiating off of her.

“Happy Birthday Jack!” She yelled excitedly, waving at the cross on the tree Riza had marked that symbolized where she buried her and Roy’s first born and only son.

* * *

On _April 16th, 1923_ on the eighth anniversary of the Promised Day, it was announced in the papers that Roy Mustang was no longer the Führer of Amestris, following the election of his successor, the now President Timothy Harmond.

_Timothy Harmond, aged 45, from West City, is now the first Democratically elected leader of Amestris. His title, now that the term Führer has been removed, is President. We can only hope that President Harmond can continue to allow this country to live in peace and prosperity, like his predecessors, the late Führer Marvin Grumman and the former Führer Roy Mustang, did before him._

“That _idiot_ up and _quit_?” Riza snarled, rolling her eyes as she read the rest of the article, which covered the requirements for someone to run for office in Amestris.

_Future presidential candidates must be at least thirty years old, have some form of background in the military or politics, and can only serve a maximum of one four year term. Gender and ethnicity are not to be an issue, and the people of Amestris can elect them to be removed from office immediately at any time._   
_No word on what Roy Mustang, aged 37, plans to do with his life now that he is no longer running the country of Amestris._

Riza huffed, throwing the paper away. _He did it. Roy did it._ She frowned. _I wonder what he’s going to do next...?_ She thought to herself, petting a now ten year old Hayate’s head as he rested it on her thigh.

* * *

On the first day of May, Roy Mustang walked down the all too familiar path towards the old Hawkeye Manor, impressed that it no longer looked condemned.

_Whoever has been living here is definitely taking care of the place._

Having left his single suitcase at his room in the local Inn, he made the three mile walk to the old estate, hoping to either see Riza and Scarlette, or someone who would know how to find them. His desire to beg Riza for forgiveness overrode his fear of Fatherhood. Walking around the house to the back, his heart stopped a what he saw.

 _Riza_.

There she was, her hair back down to her shoulders, her knees pressed into the dirt as she planted seeds in a garden, as a toddler ran around chasing chickens in a flowery sundress, her black hair pulled back into a single braid. _She actually moved back here?_ Riza couldn’t see him from where he was standing, but he could see her, and the two infant girls she had strapped to her chest and back.

 _Oh God. Oh God. I haven’t been a shitty Dad to one little girl. I’ve been a shitty Dad to three._ He mentally panicked, knowing the drunken night they spent together had conceived the twins girls Riza carried against her. It was then that Scarlette stopped running and giggling, having finally noticed the strange man staring at her Mother and baby sisters.

“Mommy?” She asked softly, staring at him with wide eyes.

_Oh God, she has her Mother’s eyes._

“Yes Scarlette?” Riza asked, not looking up.

“Who’s that man?”

Riza’s head shot up at the realization that someone was here. Her words died in her throat when she saw that it was Roy, standing there with a small and nervous smile on his face. The same smile he had on his face when they first met, over twenty one years before.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Riza Hawkeye _didn’t_ think seeing Roy Mustang standing before her was a bad thing.

“Hey.” He said, swallowing away his nervousness and giving the Mother of his children a happy smile.

“Hey.” She said, standing up and giving him the same smile back.

Maybe, _just maybe_ , everything would be okay in the end.


End file.
